Crier Au Sauvage Loup
by afeverdream
Summary: Waiting and watching for an obsession taking a turn for its beholders worse. The hunter is being hunted.
1. Chapter 1

She watched. She watched while he smiled, laughed and charmed his way into people lives. She watched as he led the innocent on with silly banter and oil slicked flammable words. Only to destroy them piece by piece and laugh as they burned tormented at the lose of whatever hope and trust they had in humanity as a whole. She watched his subtle gestures that made him seem as if he was dancing with the most glorious partner made to match his every move and whim. She watched as he walked so sure of himself, gliding as if he was on a stage and the audience eyed him in rapture. And watched as he threw back his head in gleeful laughter at doing his job so well, his audience chained to they're seats rapture forgotten. She knows he never really cared about the fuhrer he serves. Its his own game he's been playing. And when this hell ends he'll find away to survive.

So she waited. Day by day, her thoughts wrapping him closer to her body. Until she could feel him underneath her rips. She waited till he would be drawn to her like a moth to the bright lights on the Paris boulevards. Till he would be wrapped around her, skimming her sweat off her body like the fresh milk he so loved. She waited until she could see the blue of his eyes twinkle like burning stars crashing to earth, exploding in her skulls for all their ferocity. She waited, hoping and praying to be the source of his every agony. Every labored breath he drew and every thought before he lost consciousness every night.

He was her every breath, torment turned into ecstasy. Hate turning so slowly into obsession. That burning need turning into something darker and more dangerous than the act of revenge. That at least would end in death, even if he lived he would know. She waited and watched as her obsession turned into love. Never the kind to give, no this was the type to cause empires to fall and civilization to shatter. She wanted him to crawl to her begging as she wanted to do to him. Crawl as she did into his shadow, hoping for his bed. It is a well known fact women were always the cause of strong men failing. Temptresses holding on to an invisible chain letting they're little toy have its fun. She wanted to consume as to spit him out and break him. Just as she broke so long ago in his mocking laughing gaze. As she broke running from him, blood pouring from her back as weak tears poured from her eyes. Blinding her to only the ever present thought of him.

Determined in her goal, she learned tricks. How to smile just right, tilt her head in the proper direction, titter at the most appropriate jokes and when to tease and show just a small amount of what she had to offer. All the while teaching herself languages, facts and ideals to endear herself to him. She questioned what he wanted. A taller woman with a dramatic profile or a woman with soft curves and the possibility of bearing his protege. She decided neither of these ideas would work. So she trained on being elegant, quiet as to not give away any of her knowledge, intellectual or otherwise. She kept her hair darker, hinting at promises whispered into skin while darkness bathes and the hint of teeth could felt in the spine. She would match his older well known ways, his walk that commanded attention with her own stroll, his laugh with her head thrown back and neck exposed laughter echoing in her eyes. His casual polite touch with her own slightly lingering caresses. Match his power with her willingness to undo all that makes him a man.

Hans Landa will feel her deep inside, haunting him all soft parts and mystery calling to him. Showing her parts to him. He will learn regret. Be it in a year, a day, before or after the war. She could have been his.


	2. Chapter 2

He smirked as he drew his hands along the smooth line of her spine. Leaning over he whispered, "Nothing shall remain but my touch and hold on you." The cove of her ear echoing with purr of his voice. Her body hummed with aftershock of her greatest mistake that she would repeat time and time again.

Her body languid but her mind racing, she thought back as to how she finally ended here in his bed. Her goal finally obtained and now all she wanted to do was have him sink back into her. All thoughts of forced regret abandoned.

The man had a serpent's tongue that he used to wrap around more than just words. Images and phantom caresses tormented her. His lips on the back of her neck, the taste of the salt on his chest, his fingers moving against her while holding her arms with one hand as she sat astride him thrumming inside to the steady pace he set.

He watched her as she lay in his bed and regretted that he couldn't play longer. He wanted the time to explore more of her. She came to him easily enough. Smiling and nodding her head to the silly little boys of his company, amused by their futile attempts to be intelligent. He did pick his men to be simple and crude. They never questioned and soaked up anything he said as though it was the word of God. He could see her game from the being, how she would play with is boys all the while watching him and taunting. Pulling him towards her, delve inside so he could see just what she knew. The dark hair and slightly curving lips allured him to bend down to hear her not so shy whisper. He could almost feel those lips against his neck, teeth biting down as he drove into her as her long legs wrapped around his back. Behind his eyelids he could see the long neck thrown back, face exposed and eyes shut in ecstatic pleasure pain. Never before had he wanted to consume so much for so long. Always in short bursts, without attachments. Women were weak creature, meant to be kept for the times when he wanted short amusement. Here was one willing to play his game almost as if she was made just for him.

So he let her laugh and playfully push away the silly children. He waited until he had her absolute attention while everyone slept away the alcohol they consumed from the gala they had all attended. Where he first saw her slide in with a purpose to her step, draped in glided black with red dangling from her ears. Where he first caught the tempting line of her back and the barely seen lower curve leading to thoughts of her legs wrapped around his in a tangle of sheets. She looked so young at first, eager to listen to the words of powerful men. Later she still looked just as youthful but with glint that betrayed her own secret knowledge that she was just as powerful and was more amused by the over bloated speeches of men more sexually attracted to their ego then the porcelain dolls kept by they're sides. He would have for the night and show her she could never be his equal.

So he took her, again and again. Only with each hour she matched him. Word for word and taunt for taunt. At first it was sweetly gentle, her gasping and making little mewing noises underneath him. He dozed off awaking to find her astride him clenching around him while her long fingers splayed along his chest curling in the hair that dusted him. Her tongue licking a moist pathway from his hip up to his ear. Her lips pressed to the silver spot at his temple while her body convulsed as she let him fill her. Later when he flipped her over taking her with his own head thrown back, hips punishing as he bruised bit and grabbed whatever he could reach. Her head hitting against the wall or mattresses, the bed threatening to fall apart with the force he punished her with for making him want more. Her cries and moans echoing his own pants and growls. She let him do this, begged him with her eyes and soft kisses that turned into snarls and nips across his own lips and body. She even took him with in her mouth, humming as she worked a small death among his nerve endings.

Now in the dawning light he watched her stretch rolling too her side watching him. NO secret smile painted her lips this time. Only her eyes glittered as the pale light painted shadows across her body. Showing off the leanness of her thighs to the sculpture of her calf. Her smooth slim stomach with her ribs barely showing. Her small breasts pert and attentive in the slight chill without his body next to her. He licked his lips remembering the taste of her skin. But the only part that drew him was her glittering eyes. Shades of blue and gray danced, mirrors of the twilight light off of snow. They did not share those cool depths though. They burned into his very skeleton. Marking him letting him know that he did in fact give a part of himself to her in those hours spent learning more about each other than words could ever give. She knew where his smallest scars lay. Were his body still retained lean wiry muscle. She knew what touch and press made him twitch. Even when to kiss his still boyish dimples. What scent snapped his face towards her presence.

Did she give him a piece of herself? Did she pass on any secrets that he could keep and hold close till he needed to use them in desperation? She did, he just needed to search and look for these little clues given to him.

One thing he learned, she was his. Not for a night or an hour. But for all time. No other man would touch her like he has, no past lover would dare to breathe the same air or enjoy her light laugh. He would find away to keep her safe. Away from Goebbels' greedy little hands. Away from fuhrer's prying insane eyes. He'd keep her safe till this foolish war ended. Then he would search out a refined place for her. Where she could bathe in soft breezes and warm sunlight, just to fall into to his bed every night. Easing the torment of watching her dance or storm around depending on her mood for the day. Oh how he would love to see her angry. He envisioned her snapping, cool rage exuding off her being. Head tilted, eyes slated daring him to prove her wrong. The life he would give her! Free from the mocking glares of his unsophisticated colleagues. Just as she wrapped around him last night, he would keep her wrapped to him.

She watched him watching her. She knew she won. But after one night what did she lose of herself. She gave something of herself away to the man that destroyed her life. The Jew Hunter. No she wasn't an Israelite. Her town was friendly to the Jews. Friends loved ones were taken away from her when they were found. Her own father executed at the command of the man she now gazed upon. Her home burned while her childhood friends screamed in agony inside. All the while this man looked on impassive to the destruction of a whole village sense of right and wrong. Somehow this didn't matter. There was more to this man than she ever knew. A deep burning depth she wants to fall into and never come up from again. Still he would know pain, the same deep pain of lose she felt.

They both continued their vigils. Each trying to delve deeper into the head of the other. Both smiled. Hans laughed as she rose from the bed, sheet slipping from where it barely covered her. Grabbed her hips to kiss her waist. He still had time this morning to enjoy her. He knew throughout the day he would think of her. Ghosts of her moans whispering in his ear while he questioned. He would go through the motions till tonight when her moans would be real. Hot panting breathes bathing his skin in her sin. As he lead her into the bath to wash away the old sweat and to soak her in his scent, he slammed her against the wall. Her gasp causing him to kiss her hair. Murmur in it, "Mein Lieb I shall never hurt you unless you deserve it. Never make me want that. Do you understand Sidonie?"

As he took her against the cold ceramic wall, they both knew they would be wrapped in each other far longer than either planned.


	3. Chapter 3

There was an unexpected threat. A stupid ambitious youth who wanted to capture his Sidonie. Hellstrom, a viscous uncouth Gestapo. What gave him the right to follow her around the room? Try to seduce her with his cold lidless eyes. What gave him the idea she would even be interested, she had no use or time for the petulant little child. He could never fulfill her needs and wants. Landa ponder her reaction to this filth. She would pause, look at him with a small amount of amusement then pat his head. Always mocking and never indulgent. Yet still he pursued her. Every day, he would send her notes and little trinkets. Why and how the little bastard had the gall to send them to Landa's own residence he never know. Only that he would be smashed and destroyed. Sidonie was meant for his eyes only. And yet when she would get these keepsakes, she would smile and show him. Watch as he slightly twitched and said some mocking insulting comment about the boy, she would then laugh turn and place them in the brazier just to watch them burn. He never tried to give her these little gifts.

The morning after, her items were moved in with him. No questions asked and she took it with grace and no small amount of pride. Here was an unknown woman causing Hans Landa to completely turn his sense of privacy away. He knew there was talk of him showing weakness. Of falling for womanly whims and wiles. But he had her, he had her every night. He took her in the afternoon. And she let him always opening willing into to his arms, at times even meeting him in the doorway with her own predatory gleam glinting almost maniacally. He even caught her caressing a bite mark at the base of her throat, tapping it while she drank her tea at some frivolous formal tea. Catching he eyes she lifted her brow and only smiled, causing the bubble headed women at her table to look around and gasp with faux indignation at the blatant seduction she shot his way. When the function ended he took her on a stroll ending with her against a wall behind some bakery in the Montparnasse district. Brick scarping into her thighs she clung to his back. Nails digging in as she arched, panting the most delicious obscenities into his ear. Oh his girl was a bundle of sophistication mixed in the most devilish need to mark and instantly show him her darkest basic side.

Other times when he just watch her walk around the apartment he kept he would see a hint of sadness within her eyes. Sometimes that look was directed at him, a struggle he had no idea the cause of revolving there. That was when the dreams started, of a house in a quiet town. A family trying to hold together a sense of normalcy while a wolf was seated at their table. A father with kind eyes and strong arms holding onto a graceful who looked within her youth to have been a dancer. A son sitting next to a young girl, looking all the world to be strong for her, trying to physically hide from the wolf. She was interested this beast, her dark hair falling into eyes that looked like twilight on snow. Her arm out stretched to touch it, limbs not yet grown to match the rest of the body. Only showing hints of the grace that was yet to come. This little girl was far to intrigued by the wolf. And he was a huge beast. Light fur with patches of gray and eyes that burned a grin the stretched from ear to ear. The wolf lunged, snapping the father's neck, ripping claws into the mother's throat and crunching the son's ribs in its jaws. The girl finally showing fear clung sobbing to the corpses of her family, watching the beast prowl around her before it came up to her sniffing then biting into her. Landa could feel the satisfaction the animal felt at her screams. He could feel the amusement as she ran away from her home as it burned down, taking the corpses of her loved ones as the original prey in the basement burned for the sins committed by a family of innocents. The wolf howled his delight at the night sky while the smoke billowed and a child ran away from a nightmare and a predator that would destroy her very soul.

After the third night of this dream he awoke to her holding his shaking body, his hand around her throat. The look on her face telling him she knew his dream even though he never breathed a word of it to her. "You talk in your sleep, love." She told him. "I'm sorry you remember this now, that poor little girl trying to hide the scares from the big bad wolf. She found the wolf. She holds him in her arms. Lets him do whatever he wants to her. And begs for more, you see she's no longer afraid of him. He only knew she was just like him and gave her freedom a little bit sooner than she needed it." His hand tightened around her more. The words cut off. He relaxed his grip, moving to her shoulder. She swallowed only to whisper," You'll never hurt me as much as you did that night. That was when I first learned to love you." She swept his sweaty hair from his eyes and kissed his eye lids. Pressed herself to him, molding against him and showing her teeth. Letting him know she would always follow and be there when he woke, sharing her strength.

He would let the world burn around them. He did. Operation Kino took away all his power. He had no regrets as his compatriots burned in that miserable little theater. He took satisfaction knowing Hellstrom would never look at Sidonie again. No more trinkets cluttering his tables. He worried when he was taken in by the Apache. Annoyed when he felt the burn of the knife marking his forehead with they're stupid idea of vengeance. Desperate when she wasn't there waiting for him after he had given up. Angry when no one told him of her, claiming when they retrieved his personal artifects that there was no woman in his residence. Not even a clue there was ever one there. He howled with indignation when he searched for months for her and due to the markings on his head people would shake heads and let him know he had no power to cause fear anymore. She was his; she told him she loved him. When he needed her strength she walked away from him again. So he wept and felt despair. Finding himself the place he said he would build for her. Trying to catch glimpses of her in a home he feared they would never share. Building a shrine for her where he could worship the ghosts of her touch and scent. The wind mocking him for his arrogance.


	4. Chapter 4

She heard his cry, it tore at her to leave him in such away. He needed to feel the cause of her misery. The absolute betrayal she learned to accept at his hands. He needed to feel the depths of his own love for her. This game needed to end before one of them lost. This way they would learn how to give and take. She longed for his touch at night, shivered when his body couldn't be found near hers. Writhed when dreams woke her in the night sweat pouring from her body.

He would wait for her she decided. She read the papers, the story the Apache gave about his sacrifice. She knew the symbol craved into his head, letting the world know his persuasion would no longer have an effect on them. This tamed monster ready to repent for his sins. She laughed; the wolf never felt repentance for what was his nature. He would only lick his wounds and adapt to the situation. So she gave him a few more months' time, and then started her search for him. It took her longer than expected, he had hidden himself away. But she kept looking until she came upon a sleepy village in the Alsace region. There she found him, standing in a small back garden letting the howl of storm whip around him. Despair etched into his face, glaring at her when she could bear the thought of actually meeting his soul with her own. It was then she hurt again. Saw that she utterly broke the man. She stepped closer to him fear radiating from her skin. Baring her throat to him, letting him make the decision of whether or not she deserved to die for her selfishness.

Landa stood among the flowers he planted for her. An image of her stretched out on a blanket watching the storm with him. Thoughts of the raindrops splashing on her skin forcing them to run inside where he would undress her and lick the pure drops from the cream of shoulders. He opened his eyes when he heard the rumble of distant thunder, the winds picking up letting him know the storm wasn't far off. Shaking off his daydream he turned only to encounter the very thing that made his soul ache with a dull pain daily. There she stood looking for the entire world an ashamed little girl. Sorry she had played hide and seek and couldn't be found. He seethed, his first thought to cause pain. But he paused as she moved closer, not speaking as she offered herself to him to do with whatever he wished. Dear God did she look glorious. Dark hair whipping around her face, slim body wrapped in a red coat. He took her hand in his and led her inside.

"Mein Liebe," he breathed" why did you leave me?" He stroked her hair twisting it in his fingers as he sat beside her. "Why did you make me wait and search for you?" She waited making sure her answer was the truth both wanted to hear. "You needed to know the sense of lose I felt. Need to know how to depend so deeply on another as too feel their breath and heartbeat and how cold it is without." She pulled his face close to her own. Kissed his eyes, his scar, and cheeks and missing dimple. He felt her tears bathing him, washing away the years of torment and pain. Both knowing they had to move threw fire to become clean enough to deserve each other in their purest forms.

He took around the house, showing her the secret place he made for them, promising to christen them later. He showed where he wanted to build a life making a family that he wouldn't let monsters like himself harm. The storm outside finally broke, drenching the world much like their tears earlier. He danced with her in the kitchen, watched her unpack what had always belonged with him mingled into his own possessions. She made them dinner and walked around deciding what she should do within the next few days to make the house feel brighter. Every place she stepped it became lighter, the air a bit sweeter with her scent. Going to bed in the safety of each other's arms the comforted each other while the rain washed away all past annoyances and mistakes.

He finally backed her in a corner, laughing at her excitement of the new home. His own eyes bright with the idea of her cleaning and scrubbing while he gardened or played his cello, a habit he had picked back up upon in his solitude. He pretended mock anger at her idea of painting the hallway a different color, seeing if she would rise to his bait and snap at him. She finally did catching on to his game and laughing smacked at him. Still every morning she would rise and kiss his scarred forehead, commenting that it was fading, laugh when the beard he grew tickled her face.

They still hadn't changed that much, there were days neither would speak to angry at the other for some offence. Then later it would be forgiven with pulled hair and sweat drenching their bed. There were the days she'd be outside and he would press her against a tree and watch as leaves entangled in her hair as she pushed him down to his knees just to feel his tongue press into her. She would come lick the back of his neck after he was done working. He had decided to try his hand at a small vineyard and built the supports himself from the land they had cleared with a small group of local workers. The village finally accepting him after she came, showing that he was there to protect and not threaten to destroy. She would sooth his aching hands, bathing them in ointment and going with him the next day to plant or pick. Later her hands would be the same and he would kiss each scrape and bruise.

When winter came she danced in the snow, the twilight matching her eyes. He draped her in fur and took her slim body next to the fire. Splayed his hands upon her as she sat astride him, one leg off to the side and hands placed next to his head face nuzzling next to his ear. He'd growl showing her he still was the beast from those dreams so long ago and he would devour anyone how tried to break them. He marked her so long ago, waiting for her to come to him. Despaired when she ran from thinking she was the one in control, learning through her own folly he always was. She was made for him, and though she brought light into his sepia colored world he still searched for the answers she kept away from him. He knew she tormented early on about her love for him. He loved her, realizing it in the time she spent away from him. He loved her from the moment she ran from him as a child, how happy he was she did that knowing he would have more than likely killed her then. He yelped brought back from his thoughts when she bit his jaw then twisted her hips squeezing making him empty inside her. She laughed when he flipped her over crushing her to him as he licked from her both their tastes.

Spring came unthawing the ground letting all the new things grow. They knew within the year it would no longer be just them. They didn't care when it would happen. Happy to just reveal in each other touch and scathing words. It would never be pure and simple happiness with them. She almost left him twice when he nearly caused the local baker's son to shout a public apology for touching her arm while helping her load their grocery basket. She never made it easy for him; he still had his easy charm about him and had the village ladies fawning over him. Exclaiming how unfair it was for the American to mark him as such when he had to bravely risk his own life to help put Kino into effect. At home she had slapped him and refused to come to bed for two days, when she did he was tied down. Bonds digging into his skin as she moved slowly around above and besides him. He ached trying to touch her, teeth snapping as he nipped at her arm or anything he could reach.

They both had each other, torment and ecstasy wrapped together. Never regretting the want and lust they forced upon each other. Fires burnt and nature destroyed what it wanted. They still moved in within their own waltz, mocking each other with looks and touches. Whispered promises broken when the other would checkmate. Each day was a new game plotted to see how the other would react, obsession only growing stronger. Nails would still scratch and bodies would still move against the other; hot pant across skin and tears being lapped up like it was wine. Neither would let go only gripping harder and howling like the wolves they were when their existence was threatened. Twilight eyes following liquid grace while oil slicked words ignited fires that would only be quenched when buried inside soft parts and mysteries.


End file.
